


Beware Of False Prophets

by Quieta



Category: Original Work
Genre: Creampie, Cults, F/M, Forced Breeding, Horror, Priest Kink, Public Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Ritual Sex, Rural Arizona, Southwest Gothic, Torture, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 06:51:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21175220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quieta/pseuds/Quieta
Summary: Three ATF Agents are sent to investigate a cult in Arizona--however, the darkness of their own minds may prove to be more threatening than the cult's shadowy figurehead.





	Beware Of False Prophets

"You fucked up, Dempsey."

May held her head down, staring at the floor. Her jaw twitched and she had to restrain herself from talking back, saying _it_ _was an accident, I didn't see her, you think it doesn't fuck with me too?_

"Do you realize how much money you've cost the ATF? Thousands, Dempsey. Hundreds of thousands. This was close to being a full blown, media chewing, protestor hounding, press ripping us to _shreds_ disaster. You'd better thank your lucky stars that the family ended up accepting compensation instead of going to the news. It was a _very_ close call. We missed a media circus by a _cunt_ _hair._ And if the news had gotten their claws into this? You'd be out of a job, ass on the street, and barred from working in any government capacity ever again."

May did not remember having ever gotten a reaming from Troyer this harsh. But then again, she had never fucked up this bad before.

"You're off active duty. I'm reassigning you to the brig until further notice."

May looked up in shock. "But--"

"Shut up. You're lucky I didn't reassign you to Guadalajara. Get the fuck out, Dempsey. And if I were you, I'd think long and hard about what you just did. A child lost her life. A _child_. Because you couldn't stop being a fucking cowboy for five minutes." Troyer turned back to his paperwork, but she could feel the enmity radiating off him. May wanted to argue, but her voice stuck in in her throat. She left.

* * *

May was stewing. She was pissed off, at her superiors, pissed off at David fucking Morales, pissed off at the ATF, and most of all, pissed off at herself. She kept replaying the scene in her mind, and it came to her unbidden when she had her guard down, when she idled at stoplights, brushed her teeth, saw children playing in the playground…

The door slammed open, snapping her out of her reverie. "Break's over, guys! No more spending weeks twiddling our thumbs, we have an assignment!" 

"What is it?" May wasn't enthused. Only the assignments that no one wanted were given to the brig. She wasn't looking forward to dealing with Alabama methheads with chips on their shoulders and ten unlicensed guns in their closet.

"Looks like--" David flipped the first page over and frowned. "Have you heard of The Children of Seraphim?"

* * *

"So there's this guy called Adam Serafyan. At least, that's his legal name. And he runs this compound in Arizona--bumfuck Arizona I might add, looks like they're the only people for miles around--and they've been stocking up guns and explosives."

"The file says this guy doesn't have a criminal record. It's going to be hard to investigate him on hearsay."

"Well, that's why they handed the case to us. Worst comes to worst they just refuse to talk to us and we come back to DC empty-handed to let the FBI deal with it."

"Children of Seraphim." Jamie, the third person in the room, had spoken up. "Sounds like a religious group, no?" Contrary to everyone else, Jamie Guthrie did not piss off May. She was a quiet woman who preferred silence to chatter and did her work professionally and quickly. May had no idea why she had been reassigned to the brig--unless she had been involved in some fuckup like May had and they shunted her here until it cooled down a little.

Jamie turned to their dinosaur of an office computer and booted it up. "Maybe they have a website. Barring that, at least a Facebook page."

The first result on the search engine was childrenofseraphim.org, much to their luck, and it loaded slowly as May flipped through the file. A line caught her eye. _There are alleged recordings of him berating and abusing his congregation but these have never been found._ Hmmm.

The website finished loading. It was simple, clean, and up-to-date. A normal church website.

The description was, _We here are the Children of Seraphim, and we want YOU to join us. No matter who you are, whether you are a felon, addict, a prostitute, a drifter, we are ALL God's children and you are welcome here. We will uplift you and cleanse you of your sins. Families are there to help you through thick and thin, and here, under God, we are one family. _

There was a photo gallery, of smiling men, women and children inside a small, clean white church. Children playing outside and women hanging laundry. Men laughing and sitting in a circle, holding their bibles. And the man himself, Adam Serafyan.

His was the largest picture, set above the others. Standing in front of the church, arms behind his back, wearing a cassock. The photograph was clear, and she saw sharp, handsome features, neat blond hair, and a small, warm, fatherly smile.

Underneath the picture was the text, _Father Adam oversees the day-to-day activities of the Children of Seraphim. He built the community from the ground up, and he has never given up hope on a single congregant. Join us and your life will be forever changed._

"This sounds like a fucking cult," said David, for once echoing all the others' internal conclusions.

May leaned back. "Look. They sound kind of harmless. They might just be some religious retreat that attracts down-on-their luck people and tries to help them get their lives back on track."

"But why are they stockpiling weapons?"

"Iunno. Maybe they have some doomsday thing going on. They're waiting for the end times or whatever and clutching their weapons, but the end times are not gonna come. They seem fairly harmless. There hasn't been too many complaints about them according to the file."

"Well then, we'll be there and out lickety-split, and if it turns out it's something more serious we'll just notify the higher-ups and skedaddle. All we gotta do is substantiate if they're in illegal possession of firearms. Then we're out. And remember what I said? If they turn us away, we're right back in DC."

David leaned backwards on the back two legs of his chair. She hated when he did that. "So when do we start out to sunny Arizona?" May said.

"This Wednesday," said David. "So start packing."

* * *

They took a plane to Phoenix and rented a car on their meager budget. Some Subaru whose engine coughed and rattled like it had a bad cold. It was her, Jamie and David for the 90-mile journey through metro Phoenix, the suburbs, and then finally, the winding desert road that would take them to their destination.

There were few things David liked better than the sound of his own voice, one of them being convenience store coffee that tasted like sludge and stank up the car. He turned the music to some shit station and bopped along to it, paper cup held between his knees. "You know, when I was in the Marines, my commanding officer hated Nirvana. So did you know what I did? I snuck into his room when he wasn't there and I--"

May tuned him out and consulted the map. The Children of Seraphim compound was… way out there. Way, way out there. In the middle of the desert. As they drove through the barren desert, speckled occasionally with collections of trailers and shacks, May--who was a city girl--was starting to become unsettled.

"Looks like the nearest town is called Chastain," said Jamie, looking over her shoulder. "It's quite a few miles from the compound and--well, looks like they at least have a Motel 8 and a McDonalds. We'll headquarter here until this shitshow is over."

"Sounds good." May could not shake off the feeling that she was an ant about to be squashed beneath a boot. It was so desolate in the Arizona desert. So empty. She was just a speck.

Scrubland dotted the wasteland--cactuses reaching out into the sky with their green spined arms. Rocks and boulders and the ridges of mountains loomed behind the horizon. "This is the Sonora Desert right?"

"My girlfriend's name is Senora! I tell you friends I adore her!" Cracked David. "You ever heard that song? Jump in the Line?"

May ignored him. "Take the next exit."

The day had turned to night by the time they reached Chastain. It was a little better than the small towns they had encountered before--it had stores, electricity wires, and all the fixings. Not a building in town was over two stories. Some storefronts were shuttered and some were so old and crumbling she was surprised their signs didn't read _Saloon_. But it was tiny--mostly seemed like a glorified truck stop. The gas station was the biggest area in town. Far, far above the little cluster of buildings was a vast mesa set on a mountain, reaching up and blotting out the stars in the night sky.

The three of them stumbled into a Motel 8 and checked in for two rooms. David stayed in one, and Jamie and May took the other. The jet lag and driving had taken it out of them, and the two women crawled into their beds and fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

They grabbed some free pastries from the lobby and set out for their exhaustive trip, many more miles until they reached the compound. At this point, they weren't even passing towns. Not even houses. They were in the wilderness.

"Turn here."

"That just looks like a dirt road to me."

"That's what the map says." She checked her Glock and made sure the safety was off. It was only an easy flick to turn it back on, and she wanted to be on her guard, but she didn't want any accidents either. God knew the ATF didn't need another scandal.

The scenery was intensely rural. The mountains, previous in the distance, were starting to loom. Rocky outcrops jutting into the sky. The endless sand.

It was ninety five degrees, but May was shivering.

The flat, tan roof of a building came into view. As they approached it, they saw other buildings surrounding it in a semicircle--in the very middle was a long, flat white building with a golden cross on top.

It was blocked by a heavy black gate, and the perimeter was lined with barbed wire. People were beginning to mill around the dusty yard--their eyes fixed squarely on the beaten-up Subaru that had stopped in front of their gate. Their faces were blank. Women hugged their children close to them. May felt immediately unwelcome. 

May was wondering if their assignment had stopped there--when a burly man unlocked the gate and pulled it open, waving them in. When they got out of the car, a man was exiting the church, coming down the steps, arm outstretched. "Greetings," he said, his voice the only sound in the eerily quiet crowd.

It was Adam Serafyan.

* * *

He looked different than in the picture. He was more hatchet-faced, dressed down. He still had that aura to him, though--caring and handsome. In the bright Arizona sun, his skin was sun-kissed and olive. His hair was cornsilk blond, swept across his brow and cut sharply just above his ears. His eyes were dark as a doe's and framed by long eyelashes, as light as if sunbeams had been caught in them. He didn't wear a cassock, but a simple white dress shirt and black pants.

And his smile. It was warm and fatherly, but it seemed… different. The edges of his lips crinkled, his eyes squinting affectionately, but they watched her closely, very closely, pupils following her every move.

"You must be here to see me," he said. He had a different voice than what she suspected. She suspected a loud, friendly, preacher sort of voice, but his was deep and melodious, almost a whisper.

She snapped out of her reverie as Jamie spoke. "We're from the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms. We're here to investigate some… allegations made about you and your church."

He didn't seem disturbed as his eyes slid from Jamie, to David, to May. "Well, welcome to the Children of Seraphim. My name is Adam. Father Adam. And you are?"

Jamie shook his hand. "Officer Jasmine Guthrie."

"David Morales." David pumped his hand.

"Marian," said May. "Marian Dempsey."

His hand was warm and strong, and lasted for a fraction longer than it had when he shook the hands of her colleagues. "Marian," he said, tasting the name in his mouth. His smile grew wider. "Like Mary. Mother of Jesus."

"Do you mind if we ask you a couple questions?" Said May, pulling her hand away.

"Of course. Why don't you come in?"

May hesitated and looked at Jamie, but David was already following him. With one last wary gaze at the lingering people in the yard, she followed as well.

Inside was clean, roomy and sparsely decorated. There were pictures of Jesus on the plywood walls, beard flowing and eyes calm.

At the end of the hallway was a woman with faded blonde hair tied back in a ribbon, wearing a white dress. "Are these our new brothers and sisters?"

"No, Sister. Our guests are from the government. They just want to ask us some questions. Marian, David, Jasmine, this is Sister Ruth."

The woman's smile didn't falter as she clasped their hands. "It's lovely to meet you."

"Why don't you come and sit down?" Suggested Adam Serafyan. "You had to have been driving for a while. It's quite a trip to get from Chastain to our church. Come into the kitchen."

The kitchen was large and airy, with whitewashed walls. The floorboards were polished and creaking under their shoes. Stoves were shining clean, pantries neatly closed. The curtains on the windows were drawn back, letting sunlight flood into the room. A young girl was chopping greens on a cutting board, and as she turned around to smile, May noticed that underneath her shift she had a swollen belly.

"Rachel, will you pick some lettuce? We're all having salad tonight."

"Of course, father!" She sent him a smile almost as bright as the sunlight bathing the floor and scampered out.

"That's Sister Rachel," said Adam. "Brother Zachariah found her in Tucson, living with a boyfriend who was twenty years older than her. When Brother Zachariah found her, she was sitting on the stoop of a trailer with a black eye. We rescued her and gave her a home--both for her and her child."

"Wow. Takes a lot of guts to do that." David was impressed, she could tell it from the awe in his voice.

Ruth poured iced tea into glasses. Her sleeve slid up, revealing the edge of a faded tattoo. She noticed May staring, and pushed her sleeve up. She had roses and thorns weaving their way up her arm, studded with skulls. "It's a remnant," she said, "of a different person. I used to do a lot of drugs when I was younger. Hung out with the wrong people. Adam changed all that." She sent him a sweet, grateful smile.

"You see," she said, "we were all outcasts before we came here. We were miserable. We were dying, deprived of God's Light. And Father Adam opened our eyes."

May looked back Adam. He was watching her closely, the tip of his middle finger lightly tapping his glass. He winked at her. 

Why was she feeling so discontented? He was doing a good thing. But the way his liquid eyes followed her, the careful slackness of his smile, the disturbing attentiveness of his foxlike features…

"Really?" David's voice made her jump with its sharpness.

"Yes. From the brink of death. Vanity is ungodly, of course. But I believe all those who struggle--with themselves, with Satan--no matter what, deserve mercy and kindness."

David watched him, entranced, and as Adam warmly held his gaze, Mary cleared her throat. "So. Mr. Serafyan. Why don't you tell us a bit about your cu--compound?"

His eyes switched back to her as quickly as a hawk's.

"Well. As you may know, we are communal living church dedicated to a clean lifestyle and piety. We do not turn anyone away. We are all God's children here. Alcohol, drugs, nothing is permitted. We live off the land together, in solitude with ourselves and God."

May had to admit, he had a good sales pitch. Everyone seemed happy. A little boy and girl ran through the kitchen, laughing, and he swung the little boy onto his lap. "You're not bothering your sister, are you, John?"

"No, Father."

"Bible Study's going to start soon. You remember what Father told you?"

The boy looked at May and smiled. "God loves us all and specially Father loves us all too."

"That's right, sweetheart." Serafyan kissed him affectionately and pushed him off his lap. "Go on. Run along."

"You have children here," May noted. "Were they born here?"

"No. They were brought here by their mothers and fathers. There are no children born in the Children of Seraphim. Any forms of sexual expression are prohibited. Why indulge in sins of the flesh when you can indulge in God's love?"

He did have a most intense stare. She could barely keep his gaze. She wished she had a notebook in front of her to doodle on.

She heard his chair shift, and his warm hand slid over hers. The pads of his fingers were soft as they rubbed her knuckles, soft as the rest of them, and even the touch was comforting, paternal. "Do you go to Church, Marian?" He asked.

"It's _Officer Dempsey_ to you," she said icily, snatching her hand away. "And I would appreciate it if you perhaps let us look around for any unlicensed weapons."

"Don't be rude, May!" David looked embarrassed.

She expected him to kick them out, or at least drop his smile. He didn't. He inclined his head slightly. "You are welcome to look wherever you please. Make yourself at home--after all, this is the house of God."

"You stay here and keep an eye on him," May snapped at David when he made to get up. Tailed closely by Jamie, the two swept through the rooms. There was one with a blackboard and a circle of chairs she recognized as having been the one from the website with the men holding bibles. Another was a dining room with several long wooden picnic tables in a row.

She stepped through the side screen door and was in a field.

The desert retreated just to the edge, to let ropy threads of grass scatter the ground. May scuffed the ground with her boot, kicking up a cloud of dust.

* * *

"Well, sir, it sure looks like you're living your best life out here. I apologize for the intrusion--we have to investigate any tips we receive."

"You don't need to apologize for doing your job." Adam Serafyan created his elbows on the table, arms crossed loosely. "David. They don't respect you, do they?"

David looked up from the table in shock. Adam Serafyan's eyes were dark and sympathetic.

"Who? What are you talking about?" David looked behind him to make sure no one was listening. 

"Your partners. I can tell they think you're just one big joke. Won't listen to you. Roll their eyes when you talk. It's awful, really. They're your partners but have no respect for you at all."

David was quiet for a moment. His throat was dry, and then his words came tumbling out in a rush. "I tried to make friends with them. I tried as hard as I could. I'd talk, joke, get them coffee, I'd even invite them out after work. But they just blow me off. Always bitching together about me. I've heard them complain when they thought I wasn't listening--"

"Well," said Adam. "At least you have your own friends, don't you? You don't have to put up with them all the time."

The dregs of iced tea at the bottom of the glass were sticky and brown. His fingers bit into the glass.

"I--don't, really. I didn't have any friends in high school. Or, whatever I did have, they abandoned me right after. I threw parties in college--bought weed--but after the party ended, no one wanted to stay around. It's like--" he stopped talking, tried to unclench his jaw. "I had a girlfriend, too, but she--"

"Ssh. David." Adam's hands clasped his. "You're just looking for someone who sees you as you really are. Somebody who puts his best effort--who tries to be kind, who tries to treat others like he would want himself to be treated. But the world just keeps turning its back on you, isn't that right?"

* * *

A hot wind thrummed itself through May's ponytail. For an inexplicable reason, she felt something odd wash over her. A prickling feeling, like her entire body had fallen asleep.

The sun was hidden behind a cloud, making a shadow sweep across the mountain in the distance, the vast sands, the bare patch of grass she stood on.

Jamie's voice startled her. "What's that? A shed?"

On the other end of the field was a large, wooden planked building, stained with dark whorls on the wood. The dim light glinted dully off its tin roof.

"It's too big," said May. "Maybe a barn?"

As they approached it, May noticed that the door was painted red, with hinges dark with rust. She tried the door, and the knob twisted easily, to her surprise.

She pushed it inward, one hand on her holster in caution. It was dark and damp inside, with pitted wood floors and no windows. The floor sagged under her bootheel, and she noticed some planks smashed in the middle of the floor.

There was an altar in the middle of the floor, stark and bare without furnishings. Other than that, it was utterly empty. May smoothed her hand over the surface of the altar, and felt a shiver make its way up her arm.

She saw a movement across the room, and as she lifted her head, she noticed a small figure in the corner of the room.

A shard of light from the open door fell across its face--the little, moon-pale face of a little dark-haired girl--and the moment May saw, her brain went blank.

The child turned and ran past Jamie through the door, and May's legs were moving almost without her knowledge, her brain bare except for _it can't be it can't be it can't be _and Jamie's cries did not penetrate the fog of her mind as she ran outside after the child.

The tail end of the child's dress disappeared around the edge of the compound, and May ran faster, rounding the corner, her heart beating as rapidly as a rabbit--she saw her Subaru, she saw the entrance to the church and congregants milling around the front.

The dark-haired child was standing in front of her mother, a woman with thick black hair and a lined face. May ran over and fumbled with the child, turning it roughly to face her.

The girl's face was thin and pointy, with a snub nose and a gap in her teeth. It was nothing like the face she had seen in the barn.

"Excuse me, who are you?" The mother's voice snapped in her ear. May looked up, face distorted in confusion, shock and regret. _I didn't… I SAW her. I didn't mistake her…_

"Mrs. Dempsey?" She heard a familiar voice, and she looked up to see Adam Serafyan coming down the stairs from the compound, parting the crowd. Why did everyone dress the same? The men wore white shirts and black pants, the women wore long-sleeved and long-skirted white dresses. And there didn't seem to be a speck of dirt on any of them.

"Mr. Serafyan, do you mind telling me what that barn out back is for?" She was trying to make her voice hard again and wipe the disbelief off her face.

"May! What the hell was that?" Jamie sounded annoyed as she caught up with her. "I--it's nothing. Forget it." _I don't even want to think about it._

"It's simply our backup church for when we can't use our real one--renovations, flooding, you name it and we pack up and go into the backyard."

The explanation made sense, but it still unsettled her. May resolved not to enter that barn again. In fact, she resolved not to visit The Children of Seraphim ever again. She would be on the plane out of Phoenix the very next day if she could help in. "Well, we looked around and substantiated that you weren't in possession of any illegal firearms." _In fact, you're not in p__ossession of any firearms period._ "Our investigation has concluded. We'll be taking our leave now--"

"Oh, for goodness' sake!" He seemed to be quite in a tizzy, running his fingers through his silky blond hair and pushing it away from his face. He had a harried frown on. "It's almost time for our evening sermon! And dinner is afterwards. You've been here all day, surely we can have that honor?"

"I don't think--"

"We should do it," chipped in David cheerfully from behind Adam Serafyan. "I'm bushed and hungry. And we've been such a bother to him--I'd love to hear what he has to say!".

"We--we really need to be going, David."

"Well, you go then. I'll stay."

May and Jamie exchanged an agonized look. Neither of them wanted to leave him behind. "Look--alright," said Jamie finally. "But we're taking off after dinner and if your ass wants to stay here, you'll have to catch a taxi tomorrow."

* * *

The inside of the church was simple, clean and stark, with pews set up in rows and a single altar in the middle. She noticed somewhat belatedly that it was the exact same kind of altar as the one in the barn--but much cleaner and newer.

The walls were hung with red curtains pulled back to let the sun in, and a simple picture of His Holiness hung behind the altar. Not Adam Serafyan, Jesus. But she wouldn't have been surprised.

The pews were filling, men, women and children, and the ATF agents had a front seat. David looked eager and pleased. Had that nutty pastor given him a blowjob while they were investigating the compound? Just why the hell was David getting so fond of him?

He stood in front of the congregation, on the bare floor in front of the simple altar. He was only a few feet from May. Just looking at him, she wasn't surprised that he had so many followers--he was incredibly handsome, and it was never as clear to her now that he was up close. He had very high cheekbones and a sharp nose, like a hawk's beak. Underneath the curve of one cheekbone was a cluster of beauty marks speckling his skin like dots of ink. His eyes were dark and fringed by very long, light eyelashes, the contrast like night and day. His hair was a perfect blond so silvery and light it looked as soft as starlight.

"Children of Seraphim," he began. "Last night while I lay in bed I had a vision. I was walking among a road of fire, and knew the Revelation was upon us. And I looked beside me and I beheld an angel in red."

The church suddenly erupted in murmurs, the people eyeing each other excitedly.

"The angel told me I had nothing to fear, for although the Revelation was upon us, I and my flock would be protected and lifted to heaven. My sons and daughters, the day is coming."

Angel in Red? May didn't remember that particular figure from Bible Study class, but it had been an awful long time. After she married her ex-husband she stopped going to church entirely. What, was it five years ago?

Serafyan was still staring intently at her.

"For I was the first witness of the Revelation, my children, and the Angel was the second, and although we were devoured by a great beast, I knew I had nothing to fear, for I would return." His voice was swelling, arms uplifted, and as he spoke, his eyes focused deeply on her, as if she were the only person in the room. May shivered and unconsciously shifted closer to Jamie.

"This earth, full of filth and sin, will be wiped out in a clash of fire and destruction. All the evils of this world, the society which wallows in its corpulence--will be washed away to the fires of hell!"

His gentleness was gone, he was spitting bile. His hair was coming loose, shoulders heaving, eyes dark and gleaming with manic excitement. May was frozen in place, hypnotized like a rabbit in the jaws of a fox. Her knees were shaking and her throat was frozen as the congregation began to rejoice.

"The day is coming. And we--yes, _us_, children, the pure, the virtuous ones--will inherit the earth. We will repopulate the earth with pure disciples of the Lord--we, the only worthy inheritors of earth!"

The moment he said _repopulate_ she unfroze. The primal fear that had paralyzed her let up into a rush of panic, and she leaped up. 

With every single molecule of her body screaming at her to run, she walked rapidly to the door, Jamie half an inch behind her, and when she was out of the church, she broke into a job.

"What the hell is your problem?" Complained David, trailing them. "That was rude. You know, he--"

"Shut up and get in the car. Our assignment is over." She tried to keep the pitch out of her voice. Her hands were trembling so bad she couldn't get the key in the car before Jamie, who looked as if she had seen a ghost but was significantly less shaken, grabbed them from her.

* * *

All the way back to the hotel room, May could not stop shaking. She did not know why. Her mind kept replaying the sermon he had given, the way he had said _repopulate_, and the way he looked at her… his eyes, like solid black marbles…

Shit. She needed to stop thinking about it. She's be in Washington DC by Tuesday and that was all that mattered.

Jamie was unsuccessfully fussing with her cornrows. "God damn it! I hate Arizona! The fucking weather is making my hair go crazy!"

"Same here. I can't wait to get back up North. You couldn't pay me to live in the southwest." May had very dense mounds of curly red hair which misbehaved at the best of times. The sweltering weather made it look like a clown's wig.

May turned over on the bed, resting her head on her arm. Her face, shoulders, and arms had erupted in patches of freckles, dotting her skin with bronze speckles. David was not lingering in their doorway, talking nonstop and bothering them, nor was he playing loud TV from his room next door. In fact, he had been oddly quiet ever since he came back from the church. She wasn't complaining, in any case.

Still unnerved, she took Adam Serafyan's file from the bedside table and flipped through it.

_Born in Glendale, Arizona. Parents died of carbon monoxide inhalation when he was eleven… shit. That would fuck with me. No wonder why he became such a whackjob._

Raised by a grandmother, ran away at sixteen. Never finished high school. Never even got a GED.

Bounced around the United States for a few years, working odd jobs, going to church… became a traveling preacher. The first registration of the Children of Seraphim was in Maryland. He moved all around, Alabama, Oregon, Florida, Montana, gathering adherents all the way. And then, presumably, he decided it was time to go home. So he and his congregation settled in Arizona, and here they were.

May let out a shaky breath. "Jamie?"

"Yeah?"

"I… I just… something's not right. This guy. Serafyan. You ever get a sort of queasy feeling around someone? Like an uncle who hugs you for too long? Or a guy who hits on you too hard? I kind of get that feeling from Serafyan. There's something _up_ with him. It's a gut feeling."

"Guy's slick as owl shit. I don't believe a word that comes out of his mouth. I saw the way he was staring at you. Creepy fuck."

"And you _heard_ that sermon, right?"

"Yeah. That was… strange. It was almost like he was coming onto you in a weird way."

"I… I know." His words rose again in her mind. _The Angel in Red__. The pure and virtuous._

She thumbed through the file again. _There have been several investigations into disappeared members of his "congregation", however this has never been substantiated. Due to the transient nature of many members of his congregation, the local police have established they simply moved on and continued their prior lifestyle. _Hmmm. Seems like some of his congregation got fed up with him and left. Possibly she could track them down and interview them? Maybe get a better picture of what the cult was brushing under the rug.

Shit, why even bother. She was going to be out of there in a day anyway.

Jamie turned on the shower.

May rolled out of bed and pulled her sweatshirt on. She was restless and unnerved. Maybe a walk would shake some of it off.

* * *

Chastain at night had an eerie sort of isolation to it.

May had been in bad areas of DC at night, but this… it was as if the night had grown eyes and was watching her. The town was sleepy, almost dead. Even in the morning when they went to her breakfast at McDonald's, the only people there had been a couple of old men, who had stared at them suspiciously over their coffee, and one who had gotten up and left outright.

The mesa loomed in the distance, vast and pale in the light of the silver moon. It dwarfed the small town. Beneath it stretched miles of bare scrubland and desert, speckled with saguaro and creosote. Coyotes, rattlesnakes, cougars lurked in the barren landscape, lingering behind boulders and dunes, their glowing eyes fixed squarely on the little oasis of light in the middle of the desert.

The town was dead silent as she came down the steps from the second floor. Outside on the sidewalk, beneath the balcony of the second floor, was a vending machine. The neon lights cast a glow on the cracked asphalt.

May fumbled through her pockets for change and pushed a few quarters in with sweaty fingers. As the machine began to groan, the overhead lights flickered. She looked up.

At the end of the sidewalk, under the sputtering lights, stood a small, lone figure. Its face was cast in shadow, but she saw black hair cut just below the shoulders. She wore a pair of pink overalls embroidered with daisies.

May felt that deadness again, creeping like a cactus poison, numbing her fingers and making her breath freeze. _No. There's no way. I can't be seeing this. I can't--_

The vending machine erupted and ejected her can into the tray with a thud, and she glanced sideways before looking back.

The girl was gone.

The terror rose in her abruptly and sharply, like a rabbit meeting eyes with a fox. She turned and took the stops two stairs at a time and when she went into the dark hallway, she banged at her door with her fists. "Jamie! JAMIE! Let me in, Goddamnit!"

Jamie yanked open the door, still in her towel, and May whirled in and slammed it behind her. Her heart was going, her eyes were hazy. Her breaths came in rapid gasps.

"Jesus, Marian! What the fuck happened? Are you alright?"

"I'm--I'm fine." She couldn't suppress the shake in her voice. "I--I'm going to bed. We have to get up early for our drive to Phoenix."

* * *

May tried to sleep, tried to close her eyes and drift off, but every movement, every sound made her jump, and every time she closed her eyes she saw the pale, frightened face of the child, felt the split second of horror before she pulled the trigger.

She sat up eventually and pulled her laptop out of her bag. Maybe she could email her dad. Or even her ex-husband. Just someone to talk to to chase away the ghosts from her mind.

As she opened Google, a thought occurred to her. She looked sideways at Adam Serafyan's file. Out of sheer curiosity, she put "Children of Seraphim" in quotes and clicked _search_.

The first page of results were the same as when they had first searched at ATF Headquarters. She scrolled down and clicked on the next page. Halfway down between the church registration rosters she came across a website that caught her eye.

_cult-tracker.com_

May clicked on the link.

She was transported to a proboards site with a blue layout. The title of the thread was _children of seraphim?_

_so i heard about this church in arizona called the children of seraphim and it looks like a bunch of people live out in the desert without running water or anything… they say on there website they are a clean living commune for people who want to kick bad habits… but it looks like they have a bunch of children living with them. this smells kind of culty. anyone ever had any encounters with them?_

The reply was typed furiously and rapidly, ridden with capital letters and exclamation points.

_DO NOT!!!!!! I REPEAT!!!!!! DO NOT CONTACT THESE PEOPLE!! THEY ARE DANGEROUS!!! I LIVED WITH THEM FOR TWO MONTHS WHEN I WAS TRYING TO KICK MY CRACK ADDICTION. ADAM IS INSANE… HE PREACHES ABSTINENCE BUT SLEEPS WITH HIS CONGREGANTS, MALE AND FEMALE. HE CALLS HIMSELF FATHER BUT WHAT HE REALLY MEANS IS GOD. WE WOULD SPEND HOURS EACH NIGHT LISTENING TO HIS SERMONS. HE HAD ALL THESE CRAZY IDEAS ABOUT THE NEW TESTAMENT. CREEPY, WEIRD IDEAS. THERE WAS SHADY SHIT GOING ON THERE… DRUGS, GUNS. I BOLTED AFTER TWO MONTHS. PLEASE STAY AWAY FROM THESE PEOPLE!!!!_

The next, and last, reply was from username LadybugPatch, who had one post on the forums.

_My daughter Kay joined up with the Children of Seraphim when she was a drifter. She stayed with them for a year and then she quit calling. She used to call me every week. I contacted them and they told me she ran away and moved out of state. Kay never called me again. I called the Chastain Police Department and they refused to investigate it. I would go down there myself but I'm afraid. _

Marian felt cold. The night was reaching upper seventies and the fan was on, but her body felt like ice was spreading inside. "Jamie?" She called.

Jamie huffed and turned over. Marian went over to shake her awake. "Jamie! Get up! You have to look at this!"

When Jamie stopped rubbing her eyes and started reading, her expression turned from grumpy to horrified. "What the fuck?"

"Did you catch that last post? Look at this." She ruffled through the Children of Seraphim file and handed it to her. "It says there that congregants have been disappearing, but police won't investigate!"

"Christ." Jamie's eyes followed the sentence, growing wider. "There's--there's something going on here, May. There is something extremely serious."

May sat back and swallowed a lump in her throat. "I knew it. I fucking knew it. Ever since I saw that man--I knew there was something going on behind the scenes. And he's been getting away with it for _years."_

"We can't just let this slide. This is big, May. This is unbelievable."

"Look," said May, her voice trembling. "We'll get out of Chastain early tomorrow morning. We'll go straight to Phoenix, straight to the airport. When we get to DC we'll go straight to upper management and show them all--all of this. They'll contact the FBI and launch a real investigation. They can't ignore all this."

"You just want to leave? Without digging further? That's not like you, May. Why don't we go just one more time and see what we can find before they start lawyering up?"

The thought of going back to that hellish compound made her start to panic. "NO! I can't--we really shouldn't, Jamie, what if they get suspicious? It could be dangerous, I mean--"

"What happened to your cowboy mentality? They're a bunch of kooks. They bent over backward for us when we visited them the first time. We'll make up some excuse--"

May hid her head under her arms. Everything was too much. She had never felt more sickened in her life. All she wanted to do was leave, leave this town of shadows, leave the barren desert and memories behind, leave behind Adam Serafyan's black eyes like burning coal.

* * *

The electronic clock read _3:00 AM._

May had fallen asleep finally, although she muttered uneasily in her slumber. Jamie cast a glance over at her. Marian liked to metaphorically swing her dick around and act the Tuff Girl, but this was very unlike her. She seemed afraid, timid almost, at the prospect of going back to the Children of Seraphim.

Jamie's mind was on fire and had remained so since May had woken her up. She had always considered herself a soldier first and foremost--get in, get out, do your duty and keep your head down. But this whole conspiracy awoke a strange curiosity in her. She sat up and strapped on her vest, keeping an eye on May's sleeping form. She scribbled a note to her telling her where she was, which she would dispose of if she could get back early enough.

At night, the road to the Children of Seraphim was unnerving in the way only deep wilderness was. The looming flat mesa, the hazy outlines of mountains, the moonlight that shone pale over the dunes of sand--she felt unsettled. She did not pass another car the entirely of her drive.

She parked down the road from them, being sure to stop before they could hear it coming. Camouflage vest on and hand on her Glock, she stalked through the windswept land until she rounded a corner and saw the outline of the compound.

It was silent and dark, and there were no lights in the windows. She slowly rounded the side, and saw nothing. Just miles of windswept dunes. She scanned them, making sure no one was hiding in them.

Going through the front door might rouse them, so she looked for a side or back door. As she walked along the rows of blank windows, she heard a distant rumbling and murmuring.

She slowed down, back pressed against the wall, and peeked her head around the building.

In the previously barren grassfield, legions of white flowers had poked through the rough stalks of grass. They blanketed the field, a layer of snow white blossoms. _Where had they come from?_

As she slowly walked across the field, brightly blooming flowers were trampled beneath her boots. 

In the distance, the barn seemed to absorb the light. It stood as a ramshackle building, but it absorbed the dim light of the moon, the twinkles of the stars, until it was a hole of swallowing darkness.

Save for the thin crack in the doorway. It shone in a line of orange.

Jamie approached, every bootstep sinking into the field.

She brushed against the doorway and pressed her eye into the small sliver of the open door.

The inside of the dark, musty _abandoned_ church was crowded. Hems of white dresses brushed the dirty floor. Men and women stared eagerly at the center, a clear circle surrounded the altar. White dresses and black pants. Pregnant women, women clutching her children, young men, older men--

_David_.

She recognized the blank face with a jolt. He was at the very front of the crowd, face slack and entranced. He wasn't dressed like the others--he wore his regular clothes, a t-shirt and jeans.

_What the hell was he doing there?_

Something cold was forming in her belly.

His, and the eyes of all the others, were fixed on the man in the middle of the floor.

A man--no, boy--was spread-eagled over the altar, each of his limbs held by a different person. He wrenched his head back and sobbed as Adam Serafyan approached him.

"Brother Daniel," he said softly. "You know what you have done?"

His cassock fell past his feet, and his body was upright, golden hair shining bright as the sun in the lamplight. His eyes were wide and gleaming with a hungry sort of joy, impassive mouth tilted in a broad smile of ecstasy.

"I'm sorry, father," sobbed the boy, twisting his limbs. His sandy hair lay spread against the dark floor.

"You spurned the Red Angel. You spurned God. You stole from the stores of our food, lazed during the day. God has reached his last breadth of mercy with you."

Jamie heard a grinding sound. A broad-shouldered man was dragging a heavy sledgehammer towards Serafyan,leaving a trail of blood on the rotten planks.

"The Red Angel will have her fill of sinner's blood," whispered Serafyan, to the wild murmurs of the congregation. "You have sinned against the Lord. And you have paid the price." His forehead was against the boy's, eyes wild and eager. Drips of sweat ran down his forehead, under his golden hair, above his wild eyes.

The man hefted the sledgehammer above his shoulder and slammed it down, his arms tensing.

The boy's arm snapped in two.

His scream echoed like the cry of a loon. Shrill and inhuman. The man lifted the hammer indifferently and brought it down on his leg. David--the whole room--was focused on the spectacle, their eyes wide, almost greedy as the boy writhed. The murmurs were becoming a loud buzz, and then they erupted into cries of religious fervor.

"Suffer," said Adam Serafyan during a lull in the screaming. "Glory in your suffering, for you are as Jesus on the cross."

It lasted until all of his legs were skewed and broken. He was drooling then. The pain had overwhelmed him, his eyes staring into heaven, his mouth dribbling. He was somewhere else, not with this mortal broken, dying body.

Jamie was whining too, sobbing, her entire body rebelling at the sight, and it only became audible when the congregation abruptly stopped wailing and quieted. For a moment, the only sound were her sobs.

In the split second between them cacophony and quiet, a hundred eyes trailed to fix square on her.

She was frozen in place, mind buzzing dully, aware of the eyes fixed on the sliver of her face visible through the cracked door, then snapped into place.

Jamie backed away and started running--rounding the house, over the gate, and towards her car, just as the doors slowly creaked open, spilling congregants across the field of white flowers.

She reached her car too late to realize that the doors were hanging open, the windows smashed and the tires slashed. She still tried the ignition fruitlessly before jumping out of the car and beginning to run down the road.

The walls of the compound loomed in her gaze. The night was hot and sweat was dripping down her back. She saw neither hide nor hair of anyone. None of the scores of white-shirted people that packed the church.

Her clammy hand clutched her gun like a safety blanket. She kicked the front door in--she needes to get to a phone. She wouldn't last a day out in the desert.

It was dark inside the compound, and she held her Glock in front of her as she crept down the hallway. The windows lining the walls let shards of moonlight illuminate the hall.

Jamie saw a movement on the other end of the hall and lifted her gun. "Don't move," she whispered. "I don't want to hurt you. I need a phone. You--"

"Baby?"

The soft, throaty voice was so familiar it made her brain freeze in shock. She barely heard her own voice. "Mama?"

The figure stepped into the moonlight.

Tears began to trickle down her lips and down her slack jaw.

"You're dead," Jamie said.

"Why did you leave me, baby?" Said Mama.

"You beat me, Mama. You used to lock me in the closet while you got drunk." Jamie's voice was small. She felt like a little girl again, trapped in that dark closet, crying.

"Baby, in that nursing home, I was calling for you. It hurt so bad in the last few days. I wanted to see your face again. I wanted to say I was sorry. But you wouldn't return my calls… I died thinking of you. Of how much I love you."

Jamie was sobbing, her knees trembling, her gun dipping, and Mama stepped forward, arms held out, that familiar smile on her face, that familiar _smell_\--

Before the first bullet entered the back of her head and the second lodged in her brain.

Jasmine Guthrie slumped to the floor, eyes wide and unseeing, the last image imprinted on her pupils of her mother standing, arms outstretched, waiting to take her. The brawny man from the church stepped into the hallway.

"Looks like I still got my trigger finger after all those years."

Adam Serafyan was beside him. "Very nice shot, Brother Zachariah."

* * *

May woke up with the sun in her eyes. A half remembered nightmare was being chased into the recesses of her mind. She sat up and combed her frizzy red hair away from her face.

She took a shower and used a scarf to tie her hair back so it wouldn't poof. When she came out of the bathroom she noticed that Jamie wasn't in the other twin bed. Maybe down at breakfast?

They had a sad metal stand with soggy scrambled eggs and a rack of stale bagels, both of which she helped herself to generously. Jamie wasn't down at breakfast. Maybe she was next door with David, hashing out the last minute details with the airplane tickets.

But when she knocked on the door, and even shouted, no one was there. 

She went down in an irritated snit, talked to the lobby receptionist. David had checked out early last night. The receptionist had not seen Jamie.

May returned to her hotel room and packed her bags, befuddled and worried. As she grabbed her laptop bag off the desk, she noticed a hastily scribbled note written on the hotel notepad.

As she read it, her eyes widened.

* * *

Marian Dempsey went to the police station, ripped them a new one, and threatened to go to the bigwigs in ATF if they didn't let her borrow one of their shitty beaten-up rural cruisers. She drove the whole way to the Children of Seraphim with her knuckles white on the steering wheel.

When the tan compound came into view, she parked right in front of their gate and slammed on the brakes. "You're in fucking trouble, Serafyan!" She screamed as she shoved the gate open and stomped into the yard.

People doing their daily duties stopped and stared, laundry in hands and knees covered with dirt. After a minute of shouting, Adam Serafyan stepped through the door, blond hair ruffled and dark eyes crinkling as he smiled at her. "Marian. What a pleasant surprise."

"You tell me where Agent Guthrie is right now! Her car, too! I am ready to bring down the full weight of the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms on you! If she's hurt in _any way--"_

"Jasmine is inside. Come in. She's rather distressed--we need to talk about her condition. Some rather… unusual events occurred last night."

"She had better be okay. She better be _fucking_ okay or I'll--" furious, she continued ranting as Serafyan threaded his arm through hers and led her up the steps, into the compound.

He took her up a flight of stairs, into a small room overlooking the front of the yard. The people had resumed their duties, toiling away like ants as he took his seat behind a simple desk. "Calm down, Marian."

"Don't fucking call me that! I'm an agent, you will address me with respect! You're lucky I'm not marching you back to DC--"

"Marian. Mother Mary. Jasmine is not coming back."

She stopped in her tracks. "What?"

He tilted his head, golden hair gleaming platinum in the light. Liquid eyes tracing her form almost… lovingly?

"Jasmine Guthrie is dead. And you are not leaving the Children of Seraphim, Mother Mary. You will never see Washington, DC again. Not for the remainder of your life. In fact, for the next few years, you will not see the outside of this compound. You will be lying, your legs spread, either as I fuck you or you give birth to my children."

May's mind tried to comprehend his words. It came up blank. She could only stare as he slowly stood up and came around to stand in front of her.

"It's been so long. So many years you've abandoned me. But you're back now. You're with me."

His voice was breathless and trembling, worshipful as he stared her down. "When you came to me the first time, I thought I was in hell. When my parents slammed my head into the floor, left me bleeding and crying for the fifth, tenth, hundredth time… you came to me and comforted me. My Angel in Red."

The sun beat down on her bare shoulders. She was trembling. Trembling in front of this dark-eyed madman who spewed his delusions in front of her horrified eyes.

"I did as you asked. I opened the gas filters and left the house. When I came back, my parents were in bed, eyes closed in eternal slumber. You blessed me. Opened my eyes. I spent my next years chasing you before I realized what you wanted. What GOD wanted."

May gripped the back of the chair. Her eyes flitted to the side, where the doorway was behind her. How quick could she make a dash for it?

"I saw you in my dreams, my Angel in Red, instructing me, guiding me. But then you abandoned me. Why? I wondered that to myself night after night as I lay awake, lost without you. But now I realize. You were just waiting to join me on the mortal plane, as my wife, my Witness, the Mother Mary to my Father Adam. As soon as I saw your face I recognized you. I rejoiced. My angel, we are together again. And we'll never be separated."

He fell to his knees and pressed his face into her midriff, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her tight to him. She could feel his heartbeat, rapid and excited as a rabbit, and his soft hair brushed the sliver of exposed belly, making her shudder.

May slammed her knee upward, and it crushed his jaw, snapping his head upward. She kicked him away and spun around. She was out the door in a split second and thundering down the stairs, drawing her weapon. Sister Ruth was at the bottom of the stairs, looking up with a placid look, and May shoved her bodily out of the way.

Anyone still in the hallway backed away as she brandished her gun at them, and when she burst through the door to the yard, she saw that her car door was open and a man was standing by it, bending inside.

She cleared the gate in one bound, and as soon as her feet hit the dirt she was bringing her Glock across his head in a _crack_, and he collapsed, leaving her to step over his body and jump in the car.

Her wires were exposed. _Shit. He tried to cut the wires._ Her fingers were shaking and it took her three tries to get the key in the ignition. People were spilling from behind the gate and from the compound, and one grabbed at her car door just as she clicked the lock. 

"David?" May said, and the recognition made her voice a squeak.

He stared at her blankly, his ruffled hair neat and flat and his clothes replaced with the modest dress of the Children of Seraphim.

She reversed and hit the gas, nearly missing a female congregant as she sped away. The rocks and dirt were bumpy beneath her tires, but she almost sobbed with relief the way the compound grew smaller in her rearview mirror. She wasn't going to stop driving until she got to Phoenix.

As she turned back to the road, a scream welled up in her throat. In the middle of the road, behind the rising sun, stood a young girl with long dark hair and pink overalls. Her black eyes pierced through the windshield to meet May's horrified, wide blue eyes.

She jerked the steering wheel instinctively, sending her car careening into a ditch. The jolt sent her head snapping sideways to crush against the window. As her consciousness winked out, all she could hear was the faint hissing of the airbags deploying.

* * *

The first thing she felt was exploding pain.

Her head was lying against something damp and soft. The pain radiated through her skull, pulsing and aching as constant and searing as an exposed nerve.

She heard distant murmurs and shuffling. She slowly tilted her head up and opened her eyes.

At first she saw wooden beams, stretching across the ceiling. Edges where the darkness gathered. 

Somebody cupped her head and tilted it sideways. Adam Serafyan was kneeling by her side, smiling gently. 

He was naked, and so was she. His other hand was spread over her chest, and his hand curled to cup a breast.

Blood trickled down the edge of his mouth, surely a remnant of when she had kicked him. It glinted in the torchlight, and when he smiled, his teeth were covered in blood.

"I knew this day would come, my Angel in Red."

She tried to speak. "You're crazy. You're fucking cr--"

Her head was knocked into the ground by a smack so hard it made her mind spin. Her head erupted in pain where it hit the floor.

"I know," he said, his voice becoming dangerously unstable, "that you have yet to come to terms with your fate. That you have yet to come to terms with who you are. This will take time. But this. _This."_ He was hyperventilating, eyes wide around the pupils. "This is a sacred moment. And you will submit." The unhinged look in his eyes and the hoarse growl in his throat put her in mind of his preaching, the moment the mild-mannered man transformed into something almost demonic.

"I know you don't remember--but I'm going to make you remember. We are the Two Witnesses, and we--and our children--will inherit the earth."

Her red hair spread over the bloodsoaked wood in a halo.

He swiped his thumb over her slit and lifted it to his lips. His eyes were as hungry as a boar's.

The torchlight flickered across her tanned legs, her freckled breasts, her heaving throat.

"Prophetess," he whispered, his voice echoing around the silent church. "Red Angel."

She tried to cry, but a hand was over her mouth, hands holding her limbs down, legs spread, and his lithe hips settled between hers, member swollen and resting against her bare cleft. He slid his shaft up and down her spread lips, tickling her clilt and grinding against her swollen red entrance. The tip was leaking clear liquid, seeping into her pussy.

The church was dark. White-robed congregants stared down at her, none moving, not even when the swollen head of his cock submerged in her body.

Just his head felt hot and pulsing. It slid in an inch and the shaft began to slide in afterwards. Each inch stretched her open, her cunt forced to spread across his helmet as he burrowed deep inside her.

Her back arched as his hot, swollen length began to throb inside her, semen seeping along his length to burst in a well of precum in her waiting pussy.

His hot body was molded against hers, breathlessly spilling his devotion to her as he slammed his hips against hers. Her nipples pricked. Her clit twitched as he ground his sharp pelvic bone against her slowly, once after another, until her insides began to heat up, her pussy clenching unwillingly around his cock, head tilted back so she saw the dozens of eyes fixed on her, the male and female congregants with their blank eyes fixed unblinkingly on her.

The spark of pleasure was heating up inside her as Adam slowly pummelled his cock inside her. Her face was hot, nipples begging to be sucked and caressed. Her clit erupted in pleasure whenever he ground down with his body.

Abruptly, he flipped her over so that her hips ground into the damp, cold planks of the church floor. Now she had her ass in the air, Adam's hands brutally yanking her hair up and forcing her to face the congregation.

"David," She whispered.

David was sitting in the crowd, face impassive as she was pummelled and raped from behind by a monster, and even though she pathetically begged and tears ran down her cheeks.

"Your friend is not going to help you," hissed Adam in her ear, breath caressing her skin. "He's one of us now, just like you are."

He punctuated his words with a heavy thrust that ground against her buttocks and shorted her breath out, and then he shifted her again, winding his arm around her body and flipping her while rolling onto his back.

Now they were no longer fucking like dogs. She was on top, wrists trapped in his strong hands, and her pert breasts bounced and trembled in front of dozens of people, their eyes greedily locked on the two copulating figures.

May looked down at Adam, silky, white gold hair spread over the planks of the floorboard in a contrast of pale and dark. His jubilant face, his black eyes dancing in delight. The sharpness of his collarbone, the way his Adam's Apple danced as he spoke.

"It's going to happen soon," he said in a hushed voice. "Take it all in!" With one pulse of the head of his cock, she knew what he meant.

Her hips began to wriggle in panic, but her movements just slid his cock faster through her canal, exciting him. He slammed her back down, grinding their hips together, until the first spurt of hot semen hit her cervix, and her body sagged as he let out a stream of warm, fertile sperm through her body into her waiting womb. 

Her thighs trembled and her chest soared as the warm stream seeped into her. The shaky, jolting pleasure came to a climax starting in her belly and rising like a furnace to her breasts, shoulders, until it prickled the tips of her fingers. The ecstasy overcame her until she whined, writhed, and let him cup her face and seal his lips to her in a heartrending kiss.

May--Marian--Mother Mary let herself slowly collapse, barely aware of the eyes fixed on her and steadily rejoicing. All she could see was his dark, hypnotic eyes--not like a doe, no, like a wolf ready to tear her limb from limb--predatory as he pulled her to his warm, naked body, letting them meld together. Each of his heartbeat matched hers, each of his heaving breaths.

"Rejoice," he said quietly. His hand slithered between their bodies to rest on her small belly. "This will swell soon and you will birth the Messiah. And then, many more after that. Our children will inherit the earth."

May let her face slowly fall to press against his tan shoulder. The warmth comforted her, and against her will, she felt her eyes droop. His hand slid behind her head, holding her steady, a thumb rubbing across her red hair.

_No. No._

Her rapidly failing mind was not able to comprehend the wailing of horror in her consciousness. She splitting pain in her skull was becoming too much.

He had a smile on his lips.

All she wanted was to sleep. To sleep.

He pressed his forehead to hers and kissed her gently. His body was hot and hard against her as he cradled her in his arms. She tasted blood.

"Pain is godly. Pain is purifying."

Distantly, through the splitting pain of her skull, she heard a scrape, as if something heavy and metal was being dragged over the ground.

The torchlight was too bright. She blinked, and saw the silhouette of a man heft a sledgehammer over his shoulder.

"Of course, we can't have you running off before you've learned your place." His voice brushed her ear, soft as cobwebs.

The sledgehammer came down on her leg.

And yanked her mind back into vivid, horrifying reality.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a week, it was meant to be longer, obviously, due to the plot threads that never got picked up 😥 I still love the desert feeling and the thought of odd religious groups operating undetected in the more barren areas of the US.  



End file.
